Worthy of a Good Cliche
by LiLMiSSHERMY
Summary: AJ/FW, then AJ/GW. It follows the canon, ending with George like JK meant it to be. This follows a similar timeline as my others, story of Angelina Johnson and her expeditions with the twins and her friends at Hogwarts. Romantic Comedy, as per usual.
1. Chapter I: Complications

**The Untitled Johnson Project**

(Working Title: Worthy of a Good Cliche)

* * *

**WELL, here we are again: **I had started it a while ago and just wrote one chapter. I haven't got an outline or anything, I'm winging it. Just so you know, there won't be any scheduled chapters or anything--I don't want you to get your hopes up. I'm quite busy--it's just whenever I feel like writing, I'll write. I can't guarantee anything so if you don't want the disappoint, read no further. I don't want to tease you. But here it is--we'll see how it goes.

Enjoy, my faithful readers. I love you guys!

Also, the story involves a lot of the same elements, but it's going to be completely different--so you don't have to worry about that. It'll seem to be going the same, but it will continue to follow canon--I just couldn't let Fred go because I love writing with him in it.

"He doesn't want only you, Angelina—he wants every girl that's worth it. You're worth it. The only difference is I want only you, all right?"

-- George, later in the story.

* * *

I have lost all my inhibitions—all of them. I can't fathom what has been going through my mind because—well, frankly I don't think I've been making good use of it. Not even use of it in its entirety—with the exception of my animalist instincts. I've lately been fuelled on pure instinct. Basic instinct. Just think for a second what you would do if you didn't actually think—but you just acted. Dreadful, I know. If society only acted like this as a whole. However—honestly, though I can hardly say I've a life that I'm living—I feel more alive than ever. But it's just a terrible thing to think about. And you don't even know the half of it. Not even a quarter even. You only know I've gone mad and that's enough to know I doubt anyone other than myself would want to be any more involved. I don't even want to be involved. However, there is no turning back.

I realized I was at the point of no return once I had agreed to walk into his house for a cup of tea, speak casually to his mother, and walk upstairs to get "something". I could have dealt with this except for the fact that his mother had shouted her goodbyes from the bottom of the stairs. The fact that she wouldn't be back for another week on a business trip was more than what I wanted to hear. His father was never present in this household. Mum had "trusted us to behave ourselves". She had known me as the black girl from across the street, Angie, who was so kind and gentle and a really nice, well-behaved girl who was "welcome anytime you please, Darling!"

I took advantage of this invitation. I hadn't planned on it, either. He took advantage of me, but I let him. I never hindered his attempts and perhaps assisted him along the way. I suppose his mother would rid me of the "kind and gentle" title if she had knowledge of what her son and I did.

The exact moment the inhibitions were lost, my face was pressed against someone else's pillow and my heart rate was quickened as if I had scored several consecutive goals for the Team. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. It was just the time that I realized what I had honestly done—what I was continuing to do—and that I had no intentions of stopping. I knew what I was doing was wrong—not because it was the act—but because it was built on a foundation of _lies._ This boy had no idea what he was getting himself into. Physically, he completely understood; I suppose that was all we were going to remain because he couldn't follow me to Hogwarts. He couldn't know of Hogwarts. He knew every inch of my body and I wouldn't whisper a word outside of "Hello" once I was welcomed by the floor mat.

That was the summer.

It's now October.

In saying that, I mean to say that school has started back. I've left my Muggle relations in that suburban paradise after delving into a much thought-over lie. Boarding school in France to completely immerse myself in the culture. Right. He bought it.

Well, as for this year, there are some interesting happenings up at the Big H this year. The Triwizard Tournament is there for all the boys to boost their egos and all the girls to actually kick some ass. I, myself, am entering. Honestly, I am better than half of these boys at Quidditch and perhaps they are good at waving a wand from all the practice, but there is no way they can spit spells out of it as well as I can. So there.

Of course, there are those who wish to challenge me. Like the twins, as per usual. They aren't even of age, but they swear they can concoct something that'll get them entrance into the Tournament. Good Luck, boys—you're going to need it.

As soon as the word 'tournament' was spoken through Dumbledore's lips—I knew it was on. I was down for the competition from the start. I had just turned seventeen, so I was to compete and this made the twin's seethe.

"Ang, honestly—who are you _kidding?_"

We had just gotten back to the Common Room. I threw my bag from my shoulder onto the arm of the comfortable—and extremely tattered—armchair. I put on my boss face as Fred said the words. George just stood next to him with his arms crossed, smug as anything.

"What, you don't think I can compete?"

"I just don't want you to break a _nail_ or something; that would be _horrid_." The twins chuckled in unison.

Alicia stepped up, like the best friend she was. She, too, crossed her arms but spoke softy, "It's just a shame you aren't of age, boys. Just a shame." She looked at her nails and shrugged, blasé about the entire subject matter.

"If you knew us, you would know that a little thing such as _age_ wouldn't hold us back," George replied this time. He looked us both up and down, the smugness present on his face.

Alicia scoffed and I rolled my eyes. She spit out, "_Please. _You can't be serious."

I fell back into the chair and continued my menacing gaze from below. Fred smirked and walked over to me, placing his finger under my chin and lifting it up before manoeuvring around the chair to whisper in my ear, "Afraid of a little competition?"

I gasped, "Never."

"We'll see tomorrow," Fred said as he got from behind me and walked to stand next to George. "Let's go work on our plan, _shall we_, twin?"

"We shall," George answered, barely parting his lips. Fred turned to go to their dormitory but George lingered only a moment longer to stare defiantly. Finally he turned and I continued to gaze after him until they were both out of sight.

"Ugh!" I exclaimed. "I _loathe_ them."

"You love them, Ang. Face it." Alicia giggled and sat in the chair next to mine.

I shrugged and responded, "All the same, really."

"They are both gorgeous; you have all the right to be infatuated with them."

She had a point. But I wasn't exactly infatuated with them. You see, there is something about the twins that makes them completely irresistible. Perhaps it's the fact that there are two of them. After all, two is _always _better than one. Especially when they are the poster twins for perfection. From the way their ginger hair moves in unison to the stride that is unmatched—I, personally, break a sweat every time I see them. Gorgeous doesn't even begin to cover it.

But there are a few terms you could use to describe the twins. Though they are charted territory, their appeal doesn't lessen. Usually when you know the majority of the student body has had a piece, you'd let it go. No. Not with them. You just keep _wanting_ and wanting more. At least I do. I would say I couldn't speak for every other girl, but that would be a lie. I've heard it said. The endless number of conversations held in the girls' lavatory between classes hold true for this statement.

They are untameable. Undomesticated.

But if I had the chance I'd take it.

No.

Questions.

Asked.

But which one?

Fred, the ring leader. He was so much more aggressive and assertive—and s_exy. _He was the rough one. He could get it, for sure. It's apparent that Fred has had the larger amount of girls, by far. There's nothing remotely virginal or pristine about this boy. He's been there—several times before, with several different people to experience it with. Fred has more than enough girls to fill out the calendar year. He's so _dirty_ but I still want it, I do.

I have a feeling I'm going to get it, too.

Let's say that our friendship has only been intensifying by the minute since third year. There have been certain occasions where I couldn't control myself and/or there was alcohol in my system while Fred was around. I had enough dignity to stop before anything mildly serious would happen, but next time I'm in that situation, I don't know if I can exercise that kind of self control.

There has just been so much tension between the two of us. Perhaps it's just like I'm equally as aggressive. But I have a pretty sensitive side, too. It's suppressed but it's there.

That's why George is almost equally appealing as Fred is. George has had his fair share of the girls, too. But he's more—classy—than Fred is. I'd say he was romantic, but it's not exactly that, either. He's just something you want. If for no other reason, it's because you've had Fred and you want to experience the difference.

I wouldn't mind that too much, either.

But we're all just friends. Friends that are attracted to each other to excruciatingly painful levels.

I do have platonic friends, I promise.

Like my girls. We're not attracted to each other because we're all heterosexual here. Good thing, too. It would make things a little awkward in the dormitory. Just a little, though.

Alicia is pretty much the best girl ever. She has a thing for the twins as well. Though her concentration is more on George. They kissed once. It happened a year ago. She still talks about it. To this very day. I never told her how close Fred and I were to hooking up, though. Fred and I only know that. Anyways, Alicia wants desperately to be at George's side. On the other hand, she's always shown an interest in Oliver Wood. With good reason, of course.

I looked towards Alicia, realizing she was trying to get my attention.

"What? Stop shouting, I hear you!" I laughed.

"Sorry, you were out of it for a second," she said. "Are you ready to go up yet? Got to get some sleep if you want to put your name in that cup tomorrow!" She was always so enthusiastic.

"What does sleep have to do with putting my name into the Goblet of Fire, Alicia?" I questioned.

"You just want to be well-rested, is all."

"Of course," I responded. I proceeded to lift my things from the floor and follow her into the dormitory but remained where I was as I heard whispering coming from the boys' dormitory direction and was anxious to investigate. I refused, however.

"Ang," she whispered, "do you honestly think the twins will be able to get their name in the goblet?"

I sighed, "Knowing them, yes."

She bit her lower lip. The silent pondering gave me the inclination that she was about to bring up George.

"So, what do you think about George?" I am a genius.

"He is—well, he's George," I responded smartly.

"Obviously, Ang. But—well, do you think he might like me?" She asked like I was an agony aunt and I couldn't tell her. I read Fred better than I read George because it's easier. Fred is all about the physical, George is a bit more hidden—there is more to his eyes.

"He could, Alicia. It's possible. You're a semi-attractive girl. He talks to you, doesn't he?"

"'Semi-attractive?'" She gasped, "'Semi-attractive', Ang? George is gorgeous! How could I compete?"

"Uh, you're so simple. I decided not to go full-on les. You're pretty, Alicia. George would be lucky to have you," I said.

"You think so?" Her presence brightened significantly. "I really like him, Angelina. I'll never admit it, but I do."

"Alicia, you just admitted it."

"I mean to him or anyone besides you. I want him more than—a lot." She slouched in the chair and supported her head with the palm of her hand.

"I can relate, I suppose." And I could. I wanted Fred just as bad—just because he was something I didn't want to want but did anyway.

"Compare George to Wood. Which is better?" I was thankful she didn't proceed with my statement.

"They both have very good qualities, Alicia."

"I know. But which is better? Which do you think could hit harder—you know?" She giggled obnoxiously.

"Wood. He's got that aggressive side."

"George can be aggressive."

"Alicia, do you want me to answer George for every question or speak the truth? You're so thick sometimes, woman."

Alicia shrugged. "I'm going up to bed, Ang. Night."

"I'll be up in a second," I said.

She got up and walked towards to dormitories. I could almost hear her thoughts as she looked dreamily around the room. She's so simple but it's cute to be so in like with someone. I only wish I had that kind of dedication to fancying a boy—but I honestly see everything as a quest. Usually I'll have one and then move along after I've used it up. The one boy I think could occupy me would be Fred Weasley and I want not to want him—because everyone does and I hate doing everything that everyone does. It's tasteless and not very classy. But I like Fred—not like like, as Alicia does George. But I enjoy his company and we're good friends.

As I straightened up the things around me, I heard a noise sound from behind me. I turned round and saw Fred, his hair looking very ginger and bright with the firelight. "Hi," I said, startled.

"Hey, Ang." He sat beside me.

"Hi, Fr—" Before I could even finish his name, his mouth was on mine. I don't know how he managed to do it so fast, honestly. But he kissed me fiercely. My back was bent over the arm of the couch from the sudden impact of his body against mine. Heat immediately radiated from the base of my spine to flush my cheeks. I grabbed the back of his hair as a reflex. I didn't know what I was doing, but I went with it and he just kept going. Our mouths duelled and his was hot on mine. I noticed he had pressed more against me and my back ached as it hit the wood of the armchair.

He kissed my bottom lip and it ended suddenly. I would have distanced myself if I could out of shock—but he had me firmly pressed against the chair.

"Fred?"

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to kiss you, is that all right?" I couldn't read his face. Not one emotion was played on it, just a blank and beautifully perfect face.

I shook my head, stunned. "Um, I suppose. Yes."

"Good," he said. He leaned in and kissed my top lip simply, his hand on the side of my face. He then got up and proceeded back to where he had come from.

"Good," I said to myself.

This just made things so much more complicated.

It would make it exceptionally difficult to not want him if he kept approaching me such intensity.

It would make it exceptionally difficult with the taste of him still in my mouth and my body aching for more.

This just complicated things to an entirely different level.

I don't think I can handle the temptation.

I do want him, I do.

But I don't want to.


	2. Chapter II: Confusion

**I DON'T THINK YOU'LL HAVE TO WORRY: **I get kind of addicted to these sorts of things and they consume my thoughts at night, like you'll find Angelina being consumed in thought during this chapter. I'd like to thank the reviews, but I would honestly like a bit more--I find it useless to keep writing without support. I need support, I like stability. Anyways, I've decided the crucial differences in this one--it will be deeper, appeal more to the emotions. You'll get a more personal view of the experience, a sort of diary-type writing. Also, I'm going to go into different characters viewpoints at some point--those will be recognized at it will be--just different, you'll see. Nothing is as pure as it was in TFWC, things get a bit dirtier and more confusing. That would be were we delve into the depths of the confused adolescent mind. Things with this one are not as certain--no one can really figure out what they want, no one knows where anything is going to end up. It's more spontaneous and not well thought-out. Let's hope it works.

ENJOY! & Review, please!

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I awoke the next day in a daze. It was the sort of feeling I had every time I'd come from my Summer Boy's home. It's a kind of emptiness and misunderstanding. Because you do things sometimes and you don't really completely understand why you do them. Things just sort of happen sometimes, right? But how is it possible for the one thing I wanted so badly not to happen—happened. Therefore, making me elated and distraught at the same time. I'm a blend of emotions. I can't understand myself. It's complex. Whether I want to be mad at myself or—just damn happy. Anger isn't ever very good but I just don't think I can allow myself to be happy at this.

That's why I acted as if nothing had happened the next day at breakfast, Fred had followed suit. It was probably his initial plan to act as if nothing had happened. Did it honestly? Honestly. It could have just been a dream, I was quite tired. It's not that it was so amazing—it's just the fact that things like this don't happen. In our society, people don't just kiss people to kiss people. Snogging usually has some kind of attachment. Friends don't just snog each other.

However, before I divulged too deeply into this thought process, I must establish the fact that I will never tell a soul that this has happened.

Not one.

It shall be a secret.

It just so happens, Fred and I have a history of sharing secrets.

Complexity describes it all.

Complexity and utter madness.

"Hello, Angelina."

I didn't meet his eyes as I muttered "Hi, Fred." They were focused on my uninteresting sausage and eggs before me.

"Hi, Alicia. How're you?" Fred asked.

George's head poked up to look from me to Alicia.

"Well, thanks. You?" Alicia looked from Fred to George, lingered on him for a moment, and then to me.

"Splendid. Angelina?"

"Fine." My head was leaned forward and I stared at my plate.

"You all right, Ang?" Alicia asked.

"Yeah, I said I was fine." I brought myself to look up at her and smile.

A smile spread over Fred's face.

An awkward silence fell over the four of us. It was ruined by Katie Bell approaching us and sitting by Alicia. "HI, ALL!" She shouted.

"Hi," everyone said in unison, monotone as anything.

"Oh." Katie looked put down by our lack of enthusiasm.

"How you been, Kates?" Alicia asked, seemingly to brighten the mood.

While conversations grew around me I couldn't help but be consumed with thought. Fred's kiss was almost nothing like—well, could I really compare Fred to my Muggle boy—whose name is Christian, by the way. When Christian first kissed me everything was so cautious, he had lightly touched my face and his lips only just brushed against mine. It was exploring something new, so it was expected. The intensity, of course, grew when we became familiar with each other to the physical extent. Fred—it was like, it was just so intense the moment was still captivating me.

The moment had seemly passed as everyone began getting up from the table. I looked around and followed suit, using them as a guide for how I used to live my life daily before this event threw everything askew.

"Unfortunate that Quidditch won't be going on this year, huh, Angelina?"

I brought my eyes to address the voice and it was George. We've had conversations but usually Fred initiated them and they rarely incorporated normal conversation topics. "Yeah, yeah it is. There's always next year."

"Yeah," George smiled the most brilliant smile and brushed his fingers through his hair. The momentary gesture had my mind occupied with thoughts of kissing George and what it would be like compared to kissing Fred. Disastrous, Angelina. One, he's Fred twin. Two, he is property of Alicia. No touching. Though curiosity creeps through me, I daren't follow its guidance.

My trance was interrupted by my realization that I should still supply elements to the conversation. "At least there's the tournament, right?" A smile grew across my face as I knew I would be able to put my name in and stand for something—something amazing, something new. Something that could potentially divert my attention from otherwise rendering circumstances.

"Right, Ang. Honestly, you know--"

"You have absolutely no chance against the twins," Fred said as he came between George and me. He put his arm around me and explained elaborately using his hands. "Right, George?"

George took a moment before saying, "Of course."

I gave an innocent look to George before proceeding to glare at Fred, the evil one. "You can't even--"

"Shush." He put his finger to my mouth.

I stopped walking, staring into his eyes—attempting to glare but seemingly staring lovingly.

"These are minor details," he said as his brother stood just behind him, the shadows of the hall almost overcoming him. "We'll succeed, you just watch."

I managed to roll my eyes and swat his hand away. "I'll support you when I see it."

A brilliant smile played on his lips as they spread to reveal his equally stunning teeth. "Trust that I'm more than just talk, Love. Trust that." And he walked off, strutted, rather.

George gave me a look and then wandered off behind his brother, gathering up tenacity with each step. The two seemed victorious with their idea as they turned the corner, matching each other stride for stride.

I was stationary for a few moments, thinking things over. After reaching a complete blank, I proceeded to my class.

It was nearing the end of October when Hogwarts started unsettling. The arrival of the other two schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, for the Triwizard Tournament had tensions at an all time high. I, myself, was experiencing some anxiety.

I tried to tell myself that this discontent was due to the impending arrival of new students and a whole tournament-based school experience. However, I could hardly fool myself internally as the stresses put upon me from my social life started to have their weight as well. I still had kept my mouth shut, Fred had not mentioned it. Perhaps this was the issue that even after weeks he hadn't said anything about it—this could mean too much and I was doing everything in my power not to delve into the reasons a boy would not contact me after having a good snog with me. Not to boast, but—well, it just doesn't happen. I like to say I'm the least bit addicting.

This could very well mean that I have met my match.

Not in the lovey way, no.

In the Kryptonite way.

Fred Weasley was my Kryptonite.

Or I was his.

No, because you don't want Kryptonite the way I want Fred. Maybe I am masochistic and just enjoy putting myself through this torture.

That's probably it.

Nothing is wrong, nothing is serious.

I just have a fascination for making something more than it is.

I have become obsessed with trying to explain unexplainable events.

After weeks.

Obsession is never healthy.

Not at these excruciating levels.

I would hate to admit that when I'm not completely concentrating on something else, he grasps my attention and my thoughts wonder to the deep, deep, intense depths of the world.

I tend to think about things I shouldn't be thinking about.

And this is giving myself a bad reputation—with myself.

See?

I'm pondering too much again.

I need medication or something.

This medication can come in several forms:

Pill,

Liquid,

Alcohol and hard liquor,

Snogging (Unimportant third parties), or

Snogging (Fred; REPUDIATE THIS THOUGHT AND FORGET I EVER THOUGHT IT!)

But damn, that's the best choice as I have no prescriptions.

* * *

"They're here, Angelina, they're HERE! Can't you believe it!" Alicia shouted at me, jumping up and down and pulling me up from the couch.

"Who now?"

"The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students!" She looked foolishly happy.

"Right, all right." My mind was unfocused, as per usual these days.

"Angelina," said Alicia, pausing for a long time while looking utterly offended.

There was almost an absurdly long pause.

"Angelina," she continued, "think of the boys."

"Oh, yes! Priorities!" I dramatically followed behind her. "New blood, fresh meat. I must get myself in line. Oh wait! I must redo my hair!"

"Stop being so daft, honestly. What's up with you? The Angelina I know would be the vixen—the siren luring all these new boys to their—death?" Her statement lost its meaning as her pitch heightened in question.

A crowd had already gathered but I managed to push my way to the front to view the newcomers. Wind had rushed over me, blowing my hair. I blinked heavily a few times to view the testosterone walking towards the Great Hall. Good. Ness. I was overcome, flustered. French boys—and, where-ever-Durmstrang-was-located boys. Even if I had know previously, I wouldn't be able to make any sense of the knowledge now.

Though all of the Hogwarts students gaped at them, they all continued to look ahead and walk with grace. I felt so unworthy.

* * *

I felt a sharp pain in my ribs followed by, "I think he's eyeing me, Angelina!"

It was Alicia, of course.

"Who?" I asked sharply, massaging my side.

"Who else?" I wish it would be a new interest, but of course not.

"George?"

"Of course!"

We were gathered around the Common Room, the next day those who wished to put their names in the Goblet could do so. Fred and George were sharing the farthest corner. From what I saw, they were both completely consumed in their work.

"Alicia, they look completely consumed in their work."

"But he keeps glancing up, Ang. Look," she said.

I waited several seconds. George didn't look up, no, but his eyes did look unfocused a bit and his eyebrows did a sort of furrowing. It's a sure sign of love.

"See? See?" Alicia tugged on my arm anxiously.

"I see. He's madly in love with you, it's the only diagnosis." I shoved her off of me and she fell gladly to the floor, simmering in her thoughts.

"I think I might go to sleep so I might have a hope of having dreams about him." She got up from the floor and brushed herself off.

"You didn't just say that completely ridiculous and pathetic sentence, right? That was my mind thinking the absolute worst of you, right? You're not that simple, are you? Right?"

She shrugged. "I enjoy being simple. It makes things--"

"Simple?"

"Exactly!" She smiled and did a sort of jump before proceeding to the dormitory. She kept glancing at George on her way out, walking like a little girl with a sandbox crush. Even in the light and from behind, I could tell she had reddened as George's head lifted up to quickly glance at her. She did a light wave.

George smirked and looked back at Fred. He then proceeded to look in my direction, followed by Fred looking in my direction, followed by a confused look on my face. A smile spread across Fred's face and he got up to walk towards me. Before he could come to the chair, I quickly gathered my things and stood up.

"Angelina."

"Fred."

"Saw you staring."

"Hardly."

He stared at me for several moments, a curious look on his face. How was he so easy to read now?

"I was just going up, may I?"

He licked his lips. "If I can--"

"Stop." I shoved my hand to force him away. "Your devilish attempt at charm will not work on me."

I left him standing there and had almost reached the top of the stairs before he quietly said, "Worked the other night," and walked away.

* * *

Submitted my name.

Nothing more from Fred in the last twenty four hours.

The only thing mildly interesting about him was that he and his twin now have beards and somehow manage to still be attractive with them—and white hair.

* * *

They are cured and now scrumptious again.

Fleur Delacour. Viktor Krum. Cedric Diggory. Harry Potter.

I'll be damned.

* * *

November now.

Around school, it's all about the tournament. A lot of Anti-Potter stuff going around, poor kid. Rivalry all over.

That word—rivalry. I like it.

I think it could possibly describe a lot in life, for some dangerously odd reason.

Perhaps I like it because rivalries involve tension and that's all I can feel right now.

* * *

It's already nearing the end of November and nothing interesting has come to pass, just the same.

The same obsessions.

The same lack of interesting things of a romantic nature.

It's eating me up inside. From having a constant source to having a very unpredictable possibility is almost life-shattering.

The only semi-positive thing I have to look forward to is we have a Hogsmeade visit today and I could get some fresh air. Thank you. I need something fresh, something—breezy. Like air.

"Come on, Ang." Alicia needs to stop with all of her urging lately. That's all she does is urge and push me. It's because of her urges—in the other sense. She always wants me to be there when she attempts to talk to George to make things more comfortable.

"Coming, Alicia. I am coming."

We rounded the corner and were at the Entrance Hall when I stopped. "Oh shit, Alicia. I've forgotten my—my bag. It's right on the chair."

"Why did you do that?"

"I actually did it on purpose to get away from you, Alicia. I don't like you anymore and I think our friendship needs to end."

"Well, that's mean."

"I forgot it because you keep rushing me. I'll be right back—go walk with George."

She frowned, but she then smiled and skipped to him.

I ran my fingers through my tangly hair and walked against the flow of traffic to get out of this prison school. These moments alone, walking through the halls, gave me a good time to reflect on everything in life. The halls continued to echo with cheery conversation and my thoughts lingered on some forbidden thoughts.

It was suddenly surprisingly quiet as I turned the corner on the fifth floor corridor. I felt suspicious, if it were a story I would be the victim.

Alone in the corridor.

Vulnerable.

It would be like someone exceptionally sexy and daring to take advantage of me, but only in my private thoughts would such a thing occur.

Within seconds I found myself pinned against the empty corridor wall by the sexy and daring person I dare not speak of.

Fred.

He had his hands on both sides of me, pressed against the wall and his head was tilted to the side.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked.

"Me? You're the one that's got me pinned against the damn wall!"

"I'm not talking about this." He dropped his hands. "I'm talking about it being like—a month since we—uh, had that altercation in the Common Room and you haven't said anything about it. This offends me."

The clouds parted,

The sun cascaded over me,

The choir chorused "HALLELUJAH!"

And my mouth dropped open.

"Inviting, but this doesn't solve anything!" He paced before me, scratching his head. "I have tried. I've thought of every possible thing. I just can't seem to figure you out." He stopped to stare at me.

Mouth agape.

No words can escape.

"In a moment." He began pacing again. One hand was on his hip, the other on his mouth. "This is just so unusual. Angelina, what are you playing at?" He faced me again.

My head shook, I felt it.

Words failed me once again.

I just sighed, facing defeat.

My mouth closed, thankfully. My jaw was beginning to hurt.

His arms came to both sides of me again, pinning me to the wall though I hadn't moved from my initial position. "Angelina, I can not stand it any longer. The tension is nearly unbearable to me." He was stating the facts as if they came out of a science book. No charm was intertwined with his words. He looked to me.

The most I could do was smirk.

"I want you. Are you happy? You've broken me down with your words, with your behaviour, with your—who would have thought?" He crossed his arms and sucked on his bottom lip. "You're a curious girl, Angelina Johnson."

"Yes."

I spoke! Words could come from this pathetic excuse for a mouth.

He laughed, rather loudly. "Who am I kidding?"

"Who are you kidding? I'm not a project, Fred." Good words, Angelina. Words are good, indeed. "You don't want me because you want me. You want me because I simply do not want you." The words shook a bit towards the end, as if I were telling a lie or half of the truth—or half of a lie—or something that I desperately wanted to be the truth. Desperately.

His face twisted. "You're serious?"

"Not every girl swoons for you, Fred. Not every girl is in lust with your--" Amazingly good looks, beautiful hair, smile, face, body. The heat rose in my cheeks. "You."

He bit his lip. "Perhaps, yes. But if I recall—you kissed me back that day."

I shrugged. "Reflex."

"You have kissing reflexes?"

I shrugged again. "Maybe."

"That's ridiculous."

"Yes, but you're a friend. If you needed someone to kiss I couldn't very well deny you. What kind of friend would I be then?"

I was making no sense to myself, so I was unsurprised by the questioning look on his face.

"Angelina—what if I told you that I liked you? More than—other girls?" He fumbled with his hands and the only expression I read on his face was that of confusion.

"I'd say you were kidding yourself. You only_ want_ me. And you only want me because I would rather have nothing to do with you." I glared at him, my words had more strength to them. I would make them true. Or at least learn to put on a damn good facade. "Go on, Fred. Find another girl to play with, all right?"

His tongue ran across his upper lip and then smiled. "You're a curious girl, Angelina Johnson."

"You said that already."

"Don't flatter yourself too much, Love. I let you win this round."

He walked away.

He walked with the grace of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons boys.

I don't think I've ever been so confused about anything in my life. I never thought this situation could get any worse. My mind was going to corrupt itself if I didn't act, so I ran after him. I hardly thought of anything but I ran after him and shouted his name down the corridor. I can't tell you why. Running reflexes? Surely something of the sort.

But—

Nothing, he had already gone. My body was corrupted with disappointment, it suddenly felt too heavy to lug around. Before turning back, I felt his breath on the back of my neck and it gave me chills.

"Knew you'd come round."

He grabbed me from behind and twisted me around so that I faced him before he proceeded to envelope his mouth in mine. Heat immediately cascaded over my body—it was from the sun that had done the same earlier (even though it was figurative sun). His hands gripped my face fiercely and he kissed with more intensity than I thought was necessary. I would never complain, of course. My arms remained lamely and my side, my shoulders raised in uncertainty. I gripped his shirt, he took it for more intensity. Instead, I pulled him off of me.

I bit my lip.

"I've—got to go."

I took off to Hogsmeade without my bag.

Without my dignity.

Kidding, I've just felt the moment was right for being melodramatic.

I walked into the Three Broomsticks without thinking.

Alicia accosted me. "What the hell happened to you?"

The mirror next to the door told me I looked like I'd been attacked by werewolves. I figure that's the story I should tell her. The truth was more than I could handle at the present moment. Confusion doesn't even begin to describe it.


	3. Chapter III: Tension Continues to Rise

**ALOHA: **The chapters are shorter, I've noticed. Well, that's just how some things go sometimes. But seriously--the reviews are pretty low. I'm not feeling the love here, people! I'm not feeling the L O V E. So show me you care and review. Thank you.

Anyways, I'm pretty much killing time until it gets to the Yule Ball, when all the excitement always happens. I'll be taking a different approach this time, of course--giving you all of the accounts from that night each without Angelina's perspective or knowledge, should be fun. I already wrote part of it and can't wait to write the rest. Good fun.

I won't ruin anything for you, enjoy. And show your enjoyment, s'il vous plaît!

Also, just know this doesn't end after Hogwarts--the story is going to go for a long while.

* * *

"Hey, Ang. We were just about to leave. Where've you been?" Alicia asked.

"Uh, I just wanted to take a walk. A slow, thoughtful walk. And I couldn't find my bag." And I was being assaulted by Fred. Assaulted, harassed, lusted for.

"Right," said Katie. She was sitting in between Alicia and Lee Jordan, who joined us for the day.

I sat opposite the three of them and slouched in the booth. George sat beside me, leaning against the wall. "There he is," he said as he head peeked up from over the booth seat.

I turned my head to see Fred walking in. The light was coming in from the outside, highlighting him like he was sent from above. He did the perfect motion of running his fingers through his hair and walking with the seductive strut to sit—right beside me, of course.

"Hello, everyone. Good day, huh?" He looked at everyone with the biggest smile on his face.

"And where were you, Mr. Weasley?" Katie asked. Her shoulder brushed against Lee's and she lost focus for a moment before turning back to Fred.

"Business, as usual." Fred placed his elbow on the table with his hand in his hair. He looked around the Three Broomsticks and observed the clusters of people throughout.

I ceased my reverie at fear of drooling and turned to George. "What have you been up to, other twin?"

George pointed to himself. "Better twin." Could not agree more. He shrugged. "Same." In so few words, you could get addicted. Perhaps it was those few words that made you linger on them, forcing you to beg for more.

I am a bad, bad girl. I'm having lusty thoughts about the wrong twin. Or maybe he's the right twin. As long as I don't do—anything, I'm just fine. Perfect. I can have lusty thoughts about whoever I want. I guess.

I feel like I put too much of a romantic aspect on our group of friends. Normally, we would all be having a great, unequivocal time. It's just there is so much tension here. For some odd reason. See, we all—well, we're all really close in a platonic way. But we are all attractive, and therefore this can be the time in our lives when we fool around with each other and no one can say anything otherwise because we're just hormonal adolescents.

There were a couple of moments of silence, or perhaps I blocked out the conversation. Either way, suddenly everyone was looking at me and Katie's mouth was moving.

"What?"

"Angelina, you have seemed so—off lately. Are you all right?" Katie is always so perceptive. Too perceptive.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just—I haven't been getting very good sleep, is all." I hate lying. I sleep fine when I'm not dreaming.

Fred's mouth twitched only for a second before he darted out of the booth and out of the Three Broomsticks without another word. I scooted over to give George more space but he stayed cramped to the wall, seemingly deep in thought as he stared at the tabletop.

"Well how's about that first task?" Lee said, a smile spread across his face as his passion for competition was apparent.

"I know! I'm so excited!" Katie said enthusiastically.

"Honest, what about Potter!"

"I'm worried for him," joined Alicia.

"I'm going to go, guys," George said beside me.

"But conversation was just getting good," said Alicia.

"I'll follow you," I said. I scooted out of the booth and let George proceed before me.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Coming with me," said George. He smiled as he held the door for me.

The cold rushed over me and a shiver ran through my spine. "Oh, it's nothing, George." I laughed.

"It's no fun to walk back to the castle alone." He shoved his hands down in his pockets.

"I suppose." I brushed my hair behind my ear and looked over at him.

"You do seem a bit offset, Angelina," he said, looking directly at me.

I noticed how slowly we were walking but didn't proceed any faster. I shrugged in response. "I don't know, I've got a lot going on."

"A lot going on up here." He stopped and had his hands on the side of my head, directing the response to my complicated mind. He smiled as he let go and proceeded to continue walking. His hands hung by his sides, fidgeting. A smirk came back to his face before it just slid away.

"I suppose. Nothing serious, of course."

"It seems it. That's all you are lately, serious. I wish you would lighten up. I miss the old, playful Ang. The one that beats me up at regular intervals just for a laugh." The smile came back.

I punched him playfully in the arm. "Do you really wish that? I've a mean punch, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Silence rose between the two of us for a couple of minutes while we covered the walk back to the castle. Our pace remained slow, I was savouring the calm moments that I rarely had. I was completely at ease when I was around him, my mind wasn't bothered with anything except the current moment. It was a kind of escape.

"George, do you fancy Alicia?" For unknown reasons, I decided to ask.

His mouth twitched, smiling still. "Wow, that's unexpected. Blunt, nevertheless."

"Curiosity will do that to you," I said. I sighed. "So?"

"Alicia, well, she's—Alicia is a sweet girl, she's good fun. Honestly, I don't know if I _like_ her. I like being around her." His eyes had been on the ground and he finally looked up at me. "But I fancy being around you and I'm not exactly ready to propose, right?"

"Right."

He shrugged. "She's made it clear what she wants and I wish she wouldn't. It gets me—jittery or something. I feel uncomfortable when people openly fancy me." The sweetest, childish grin grew on his face. He seemed so innocent, pure. What a facade he could put on.

"A genuine answer, I guess."

"Yeah."

Not a minute passed in silence before he stated—not asked, "You fancy Fred."

"Uh," I stuttered. My mind raked over things to say. George had been so composed and honest when he gave his answer and I wish I could. "Same."

"What?"

"Same answer you gave."

"Fred is sweet and good? You do not understand your feelings towards him but you like being around him. He also makes it clear that he wants you very much and you are uncomfortable with that?"

"Sure."

"You're not a very good liar, Angelina." He stopped me by putting his hand on my shoulder. His head was tilted to the side, curious. "What is it that you're hiding?"

"Um. I don't know if I rate Fred. I mean, I fancy being around him just like you with Alicia. I also quite like being around you—as well." At this point, I managed to look at him. I gulped. "But I don't, George. I don't fancy Fred. Even if I did, he has enough girls to fill the calendar year. He hasn't got time for Angelina, now, does he?"

George's expression was unreadable as he let me go and proceeding walking, his head staring forward. "You'd be surprised."

"At what, exactly?"

"Don't worry about it." He smiled up at me and it didn't catch his eyes.

"Right."

"Well, let's get on. It's a bit cold out and I don't want to have to rescue you with my body heat. No matter how tempting." An honest smile spread across his face.

Our pace quickened. I was a bit reluctant, but it did regardless.

* * *

First task. Exciting, but not critical to my life as I'm not competing. However, the celebration after is something to—live for.

"Hey, Ang, take some of this." Fred handed me a cup that was smoking.

"Fred? What is this?" I took hold of it.

"Just drink." He placed it to my lips and forced it down.

"MY THROAT!" I coughed, the cup dropping out of my hands. "It's burning, Fred, burning."

"That's the point," he whispered in my ear.

The effect was almost instant and I was openly hot for Fred. It showed on my face as I bit my lip.

"That's what I thought." He grabbed my chin and brought my lips to meet his.

"In front of everyone, Fred?" I had pulled away.

"Who's watching?"

My eyes were closed so I couldn't see. Not to mention the fact that the back of my head had no eyes and my face was occupied. If he was a dessert, I devoured it. I couldn't get enough and the fact that my inhibitions had been lost (not the first time in my life) in one instant hadn't been calculated into my mind. I didn't even know if it functioned besides the motor functions I needed for heavy snogging against the Common Room wall.

"You don't drink very often, do you?"

"What?" My eyes drifted open to see an empty Common Room and a dim fire.

"You don't drink," repeated unknown, familiar voice.

"I drink—everyday. Water, juice—of the pumpkin variety."

"I meant liquor, Angelina."

"You know my name." I grasped the face that was still fuzzy to me. "Hi."

"Let's get you to bed."

"But I've just slept for several _hours!_ I've never been so well-rested!"

"Right, come on."

I was suddenly off of the cooshy surface and in the air, like flying with something underneath me, holding me.

"Come on," said Voice.

Voice ascended with my body up stairs and then fell, sliding back several feet and landing the both of us on the floor.

"I've forgotten about that. Well, looks like it's the couch for the both of us."

I was back on the couch, I suppose.

"Thanks, friend." I patted the face of my patron.

"I'll kill him." Voice sighed.

"Don't kill, that's bad."

"Just go to sleep, Ang."

"Right-O."

* * *

"Ow." Pain shot through my head as I attempted to sit up from my bed. What had I done in my sleep? "Ouch, ow, oh goodness." I opened my eyes and they revealed the Common Room.

"You're up!"

"AH! Oh, hell! George? What? You scared the—why am I on the couch? And why are you on the floor?"

George smiled. "Fred."

"That says enough. He'll be the death of me." I attempted to get up, but it only hurt my head more so I fell back on the couch.

"Come on." George lent me his hands and brought me off of the couch. I fell into him and he wrapped his arms around me. "Yeah, Fred. Nice."

"Ugh." I continued to clutch my head. Every part of me hurt and I had no idea why.

"You've got to get upstairs, Angelina."

"But it hurts, George. My head hurts really badly."

"I know. You've just been date raped."

"WHAT?"

"No, I'm kidding. Bad joke. It's just—Fred gave you something really strong and it tore you up instantly."

"Huh?"

"You weren't raped, though. You would've said yes. By the looks of it, you did—you were practically shagging against the wall, Angelina. You are quite the feisty--"

"Save it." I put my hand over his mouth.

"Right."

* * *

"Angelina! So good--"

I punched him in the stomach, Fred, that is. "You prat! I can't believe you!"

Everyone was returning from breakfast so there was a bit of an audience to see my killer punch.

Fred doubled over. "Damn, Love. Easy."

"No more than you deserve." I shoved him over so he was on the floor. My eyes wondered over everyone watching, curious how many of them saw me at my very worst. "Get up." I pulled him off up the floor and led him outside of the portrait hole.

"Did you have you go and do that?" He rubbed his stomach.

"I could ask you the same thing. What exactly were you planning on doing?"

He was at his full height now so I had to look up. He shrugged. "Thought you could handle a little something."

"Will you please tell me what happened? I woke up in the Common Room later—with only your lovely brother there to care for me. You were off doing—who knows what with who knows who!"

"Well, we snogged against the wall for a bit. Someone got a bit grabby." He wriggled his eyebrows. "Not me, of course." He laughed. "Let's see, that's it. I left after that. Don't know what you did."

"I loathe you, Fred Weasley. You got me pissed and left me to suffer!"

"Or to indulge?" His hands rose in question and I could slap the smirk off of his face.

"That was so classless."

"Who is worried about class with all the fun there is to be had? Come on." He grabbed my chin and brought my face up to look at him. "You can't complain, you needed to let go. As for that twin of mine, he's the one who suggested it in the first place, bloody wanker—always playing the good boy. He'll fool you if you let him." He tapped my nose in a playful, childish way.

I batted his hand away, shoved him and stamped back into the Common Room. I found George sitting in an armchair with Alicia on his lap, his arms resting on the back of the couch looking victorious. "You." I pointed at him.

"Me." He smiled, laughing a bit. "Yes?"

"Wait, when did this happen?" I pointed from Alicia to George and back.

"While you were passed out," Alicia sassed. I ought to knock the smirk off of her face. People are having their way with me today and I will not take it.

"Come with me." I pointed to George, then inched my finger back.

He got up from his seat, delicately moving Alicia and followed me to the corner of the Common Room. I just titled my head in question, he understood.

He shrugged, though. "I guess I don't know myself very well."

"What are you doing, George?"

He frowned, "I don't know, Angelina. Living?"

"Don't play with the girl."

"I told you—maybe I like her, all right? Leave it." His face showed anger, something that's rare with him.

"Since when do you talk to me like that?"  
He shrugged. "Maybe since you—sorry." His face changed back to the sweet George, the one that was present that majority of the time. But the shift was strange, almost scary.

"No, say it, George."

He shrugged. "I think Alicia's calling me."

"Stop it."

"You first."

My face showed the hurt, the disappointment. "What the hell are you talking about? What is the topic of this conversation, George? Because you're on a different wavelength."

He shrugged, his face leaning closer to me. "Maybe you just don't see it."

I walked away from him.

"Ang--" He said it softly but I heard him. But I still didn't turn back.

I don't know why I was so frustrated at George right now, I just was. Not to mention—well, the good qualities I saw in George are now gone, because he's done something so stupid like court Alicia. How stupid is that? Incredibly. It's Alicia. Honestly, he doesn't like her. I saw it in his face that day, he's annoyed by her very presence. But why is it so agitating to me? Maybe I wouldn't be so peeved if he acted like a decent human being for once in his life, well, he has. But—he needs to continue. Because that last conversation really had me thrown off, really thrown off.

* * *

"Listen, I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I was inappropriate with you the other day, Angelina, and I wanted you to know I'm sorry. It's just—nothing. But I do like Alicia, she's fun, like I said." George said it but it didn't sound like George. The words seemed fake. "I'm sorry, though."

"It's all right, George. It's really, really fine."

"No it's not." He sat beside me on the couch. I was reviewing some work, or pretending to while listening to conversations around me. "I was a real git about it all, I just—nothing. Sorry." He got up and went back to his sweetheart, Alicia Pathetic Spinnet.

Can he get out a complete thought?

Since the apology, I haven't spoken much to George than was needed.

Since the ass kicking, I haven't spoken much to Fred than was needed.

* * *

It's December now and I'm running out of friends.

Katie is the only stable one of us, and she's younger which means she understands little and follows the 'Smile and Nod' rule.

However, I've occupied my days with entertaining her babble about Lee Jordan and cosmetics. I, myself, have mastered the 'Smile and Nod' to a tee.

It's December now, wind and sleet have taken over the outside world so I'm stuck in the confinements of this castle—very restricted.


End file.
